Little Flower
by WolfSpirit1992
Summary: Neville finds himself rather depressed after another disaster in Potions. He believes no one will ever see him as more than just a clumsy, pathetic excuse of a Gryffindor. One day, a mysterious letter appears and makes him question his assumption. How will Neville react to the author's feelings? Check it out.


**Had this idea swimming around in my head for quite some time, and I finally got around to writing it! It's a cute one-shot featuring our lovable herbology-king, Neville Longbottom! It also features another minor male Slytherin character whose name is oddly not on the character list. I hope it's decent** **enough! :) Mentions of slash later on!**

**Anything beginning/ending with *~...is a memory.**

**A/N and Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine!**

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><p><em>'Why can't I do anything right? I followed directions and made one slight accidental miscalculation...then the whole thing fucking boiled over and I got burned.' <em>Neville sighed morosely, staring upon his bandaged hands. Two hours earlier, in his last class of the afternoon, he was reluctantly paired up with Draco Malfoy for their Potions assignment. Snape ordered the class to brew an Invisibility draught, which Longbottom didn't see the point in because there was a charm that could do just that and give the same effect...nevertheless, it was Snape's class and his word was law. Draco took it upon himself to designate the steps between them...as in giving him the easiest tasks, knowing full well of Neville's past history of accidentally botching up solutions...like he was an incompetent dumbass or something. Anyway, what had happened was that after Draco finished grating the snakeroot, he ordered Neville to sliver the bat spleen, in which he did accordingly.

**~*** "Ok, there's the bat spleen." "Finally. Just leave it right there and I'll get to it. Don't you touch anything until I grab the last ingredient. You can do that simple task, can't you?" Malfoy finished with a sneer before sauntering away to the cabinet. ''I'm not stupid.." Neville muttered softly as he watched the cauldron. Unfortunately, Draco's orders were about to be disobeyed once the brew inside the pewter vessel started turning orange when it was supposed to be blue.

_'Oh shit...ok..ok..to uh, reverse that...I add a measure of powdered snake fang.' _The nervous brunette reached for the powder and added one measure and waited to see the reversal. Much to his disappointment, that did not work...it turned dark green and began bubbling furiously. _'No! No..I thought one measure fixes it!' _Quickly, he scanned to the bottom paragraph where it stated _'-In case of accidental over-brewing of the prior ingredients, two measures of powdered snake fang must be added to restore its balance.-' 'Two measures? Two? Oh no...what happens with one?..'_

"You bloody idiot! What did you do? I told you not to touch anything!" Draco snapped as he hurried over to try and salvage his work. Neville meekly tried to explain ''I..It started turning orange and I thought I could fix it...I added one measure of snake fang, when I-'' "You're only supposed to use two and now look what you did! You've wrecked it and now-" Without warning, the dark green goo exploded and showered their workspace, splashing Neville all over his hands then Draco's neck and cheek...burning their skin. Snape barreled over towards their mess, obviously pissed that he was the one who'd have to clean it up. "Out! Go to the Hospital Wing and get those wounds taken care of this instant!" At his bellow, they exited the dungeons immediately.

Malfoy glared at Neville, clutching his face. "I don't ever want you paired with me again. You...argh...are the most useless with Potions...with..with anything! You're a fucking disaster! I don't understand how Gryffindor Tower could still be intact from your constant mishaps..." Neville could only stare ahead in silence as they trudged to Madame Pomfrey.***~**

_'Now I can't take these ruddy things off until tomorrow night. Malfoy's right, I'm such a fucking disaster...useless...pathetic. Why do I even bother trying? All I ever do is make a mess of the place. It's as if everything I touch breaks before my eyes. My Gran can't bother with me, either...even she thinks I'm a failure. If I can't manage to brew a simple fourth-year potion or simply walk without tripping on a flat surface...how can I ever expect to keep friends, graduate or even date? What's the point? Nobody will ever see me as Neville Longbottom, the mild-mannered Gryffindor...just as Neville Longbottom, the clumsy catastrophe-on-two-feet who lives up in the tower.' _

Finished with another of his self-deprecating internal monologues, Neville rested his head in his bandaged hands as he sat back on the wooden bench in Greenhouse number 4. Inhaling, he took a sniff of the soothing gel Pomfrey lathered on his hands. The lavender, chamomile and aloe-infused scent was calming. _'Well, at least the salve smells nice..and the bandages are water and disgusting substance-proof.' _

Inside, the air was earthy, floral and silent...if one didn't count the rustling of living bluebells in the eastern righthand corner. This was his sanctuary, actually, all of the greenhouses were; including his favorite rock by the Black Lake and the Room of Requirement. Neville would often come here to get away from the stresses of the day...noting his teasing and being sick of listening to the loudness of the common room. Professor Sprout didn't mind, he was her favorite pupil. Staring into space, he did not notice the footsteps outside and a small object materializing in the walkway.

Growing tired, Neville decided to vacate the greenhouse. As he ventured forth, a flash of red caught his eye. Stopping, he saw a lone red rose lying on top of a folded parchment. _'What's this?'_ he pondered, picking up the flower and note. Opening the paper, Neville scanned the script.

_'-A little rose for my little flower. It's a shame you don't see how lovely you truly are. You're worth so much more than you know.-' _

That's all that was written. Those three sentences made Neville scrunch his face adorably in confusion and blush lightly on top of that. _'I...I'm lovely? No one's ever said that to me before. Who sent this?' _He overturned the letter front to back, finding no indication of the author.

Neville sighed as he stepped out of the building and started heading towards the castle. ''This has to be a fucking joke...who in their right mind would send this to me?" Taking a second to stop and smell the rose, his frown turned into a tiny smile...hoping that in the slightest, this note was not a prank. In the shadows not too distant, a dark figure whispered ''It's not a joke, my little flower..''

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><p>The next day, Neville received yet another note and...another flower. It was a white gardenia this time. What mainly surprised the Lion was its placement...on his bed...in Gryffindor Tower. '<em>This has to be from someone in here...there's no way anybody outside Gryffindor could have snuck this inside. I know for one thing, it couldn't have been a girl...they're not allowed in the boys' dorm. At least that gives me some peace of mind. What does this one say?' <em>

_'-Little Flower, _

_Hello again. Didn't expect another letter from me, did you? I must say it's heartbreaking of you to think this was merely a cruel joke. You have to give me more credit than that. It's not impossible for someone to take interest in you...I sure have. I've watched for you quite some time and I've become enamored. Everything you do is adorable...the way you blush when you're shy or embarrassed, biting your lip when you're nervous or unsure of yourself, when you'd stare off into the distance...and especially when you smile. You don't do it often enough, but you should. Unfortunately, you don't...that is why I am going to see that you do. Every day with every letter...you'll receive a gift. I'm not going to tell you what they will be, you'll have to wait and see for yourself. Until my next letter...goodbye, my little flower.-'_

_' ''Little Flower''? Is that the nickname you have for me? Hm..it is rather cute...much better than ''squib'' or ''bumbling loser''. Whoever you are, you're very sweet.'_ Neville smiled softly as he reread the letter two, three times before safely stowing it away in his nightstand. The Lion mused to himself as he fingered the gardenia petals...as best as he could with bandaged hands.

_'Even though I know you're not of malicious intent, why do I get the slight feeling you've been stalking me? And why am I not exactly disturbed by that? Man, I am so weird..' _

Five days came and went, each bringing a letter and a small trinket accompanied with, you guessed it...a flower. Currently returning to his bed in the empty room, Neville gathered the letters and gifts from his trunk. He was sure to cast a preservation charm on the flowers he received from his admirer. From the day he got his first message, Neville wondered just who the person in question was. There were no outer clues from people's behavior that gave him the answer he sought, so he was left a pondering soul. That day after lunch, the idea struck him like a ton of bricks.

_'If I am unable to get the answer without totally humiliating myself by asking in person, why not try a less harmful and devastating approach by piecing the puzzle together?' _Neville was more clever than what everyone else believed, sometimes, the predicaments he got himself into shown otherwise. It's not like he does it on purpose!

When he laid the objects down upon the scarlet duvet, Neville stared at them: Flowers, a ruby signet ring, a square silver inkpot that was enchanted to refill and never spill (why the hell he never invested in one before today was beyond his comprehension), a tracking device to put on his bag, flame/spill-retardant robes, a book on flowers and their symbolism...all a mixture of beauty and of great use...especially the flame/spill-retardant robes, the tracking device and inkpot. The five other letters consisted further of encouraging words and kind reverence. He took the time to read them again, blushing at the romantic, loving vibes they sent.

''Ok, now what do all of you have in common?" Neville asked lowly as he focused his earthy brown eyes in contemplation. Moments later, he came to a conclusion. _'Hmm...each gift came in either red or green wrapping. That means it could either be a Gryffindor or...' _he gulped _'...a Slytherin. But, the green-wrapped packages were more ornately decorated whilst the red remained plain. So, most likely this person was giving me a subtle hint and is indeed Slytherin. Oh boy...this should be interesting.'_

He mused on _'Everything I received, excluding the flowers and book, has a more masculine design to it and I pretty much knew from the beginning the sender was a bloke. That's two mysteries solved. The question now is...who's the Snake? Maybe some observation tonight at dinner would help...hopefully?'_

Another day passes and Neville is no closer to finding his mystery man. Last night proved to be less fruitful than he thought. He observed Slytherin table and the blokes on it from end to end...hoping to catch someone watching him from a distance but only got sneers and evil glares in return. Wanting to avoid shouts of trouble, he averted disappointed eyes to his plate. Now, he was flicking pebbles into the edge of the Black Lake._ 'I was this close to learning your identity...why did there have to be so many of you at that table? Why couldn't you have spared me a kind glance to save me some embarrassment? That would have made things easier, you know.' _Sighing miserably, he bent down to pick up another beige pebble. A tiny 'pop' sounded. As if his prayers were heard, another letter sat across from his outstretched fingers. Eagerly but not overbearingly so, Neville snatched it from the damp sand and tore it open.

_'- Little Flower, _

_I noticed you at the table last night. I see you've taken it upon yourself to figure me out. I conclude you know I'm a Slytherin and it's not bothering you. You wouldn't have resorted to searching if that tiny fact was a problem. You seemed so sad this morning at breakfast and I also assume it's because you didn't get your confirmation. Don't lose heart, my curious sweetpea...you will have the answer you seek. Come to Greenhouse 4 tonight after dinner. I'll be waiting.-'_

''Finally...'' Neville exhaled in relief. ''I finally get to know who you are..'' Excitedly, he returned to the castle in anticipation of meeting the mysterious stranger.

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><p>Around 8:00 pm, Neville padded his way down the corridors and across the courtyard. <em>'Greenhouse 2, 3...4. Here we are.' <em>The Lion crept into the darkened structure and peered around. Nothing else was present except the moonlit foliage. ''H-Hello? Anyone here? I got your message...w-where are you?" "You may want to light your wand...'' a smooth tenored voice echoed behind him. Neville jumped at the sudden voice, tripped and knocked over a pot, shattering the terracotta vessel and sending soil everywhere. ''Aw shit...not again..'' he groaned, shaking his head at the mess.

"Here, let me. Lumos!" A light emerged, revealing a familiar Slytherin Neville seen at the games over the years. It was Slytherin sixth year and Beater, Lucian Bole. The older male knelt down beside him. ''Are you ok?" Neville dusted off his hands, gazing up. Bole had black hair, a kind handsome face and stunning blue-green eyes anyone could get lost in. His voice was soothing to his ears and nerves. Taking a breath to steady himself, he replied ''I..I'm ok..just a little dirt is all. Uh..you...you're the one who wrote me those letters?"

Lucian smiled, helping Neville to his feet. ''Did you like them?" The Gryffindor shyly smiled in return, nodding. ''I sure did. They were really sweet. Um, I have to ask you something." "What is it?" "Why me? Out of all the guys here, you had to pick me...the clumsy, disastrous near-Squib. Why couldn't you have chosen someone less accident-prone...like Harry or Ron...or...something?'' The Snake gently moved some of Neville's wavy brown locks out of his eyes and kissed his cheek. "Why would I not choose you? You're kind, sweet and humble. You're also intelligent and honestly...you're fucking adorable. There's more to you than being clumsy. We've all had our moments, it's not like you're going to be that way forever."

Neville scoffed in disbelief. Lucian raised his eyebrows. ''You don't believe me? Well, what if I said I was clumsy just like you and I still have minor episodes from time to time?'' The Lion stared, shaking his head. "You? Clumsy? I don't see it. You Slytherins practically embody grace and coordination...even when some of you trudge around or fight in the corridors."

Bole laughed "It's true. I've had my own problems with causing disasters." "Oh really? More than me?" "Nev, they used to call me 'Hurricane Bole'. Everywhere I went, complete and utter devastation would sweep the premises. My parents had to charm me specifically to keep my arse from getting hurt or hurting someone else." Neville tilted his head. ''Did you ever break your wrist on the first day riding a broom? Trip on flat surfaces or get attacked by a bloody book?''

Lucian smirked ''Crashed through a window and broke my arm, tripped in fucking mid-air, and when I was at this gala one time at the Ministry when I was eleven...I knocked into a waiter; who then knocked into several more waiters...thus producing a domino effect which crashed into the orchestra. Once the percussion line toppled backward, they broke the wood bearings...completely leveling the stage. To finish it off, the Minister flew off the podium and ended up facefirst in some old woman's tits."

Neville burst out laughing at the image. "Oh good Merlin..yeah, I fold. You win...I guess my instances weren't that bad after all, huh?"

"Nope. To this day, my mates and parents never let me live it down.. although I haven't royally fucked up like that in years. You see, I was worse than you and I thought it would never get any better...but one day, I woke up and managed to go an entire month without an accident. A month turned into two, then six..a year...and to this day, I have yet to have any major episodes. Sure, tiny things happen but they do to everyone. It is possible to grow out of it...I did and so can you. You're not alone, Neville." The brunette allowed the Slytherin to kiss the top of his hand and simultaneously pull him into a sidehug. Neville blushed furiously at the contact but he didn't find himself pulling away from it, either.

_'You're not alone..' _Those were another few words no one had ever said to him. They comforted Neville like no one would believe. Out of all people, he didn't expect a Slytherin to warmly reassure him. ''Do you really mean that? I'm not alone?" "Every word. You're not alone in the clumsiness department and if you're willing...you don't have to be when it comes to..'' he gestured in between them ''...this." The Gryffindor considered the thought for a brief moment, then locked his earthy orbs with blue-green. ''I wouldn't mind. I'd like to give it a try." Lucian grinned and hugged him tightly.

"Lucian, uh..another question." "Yeah?" "Why did you call me 'Little Flower' in your letters?'' "Well...you do play around in the gardenbeds more often than most here and..." the raven-haired boy plucked a chamomile flower from its stalk and gently brushed it against Neville's cheek and the tip of his nose. "...little flowers are often cast aside because many don't see them as vibrant, bold or 'in-your-face' as gigantic hydrangeas or lilies. They make the mistake of overlooking the usefulness a lot of small flowers, like chamomile, provide. If you ask me, flowers like these definitely have more worth and potential...and my eyes are open wide enough to see it.'' He finished his answer with a soft kiss to Neville's lips.

Melting from his first kiss, Neville responded with bated breath ''So, um...this means we're together now?..Wait...of course it does..why did I ask that?''

Lucian chuckled, rubbing his side. ''It's ok, my sweet. How about we get out of here before Filch comes sniffing about? We still have several hours before curfew, we can hang somewhere and talk.'' ''Just be sure it's somewhere I can easily get out of...I have a nasty habit with getting locked up in closets." "The only time you'll ever be locked up in a closet is when we lock it ourselves." Lucian purred, playfully winking at Neville and making the poor guy flush as red as the snapdragons in Greenhouse 1. "You know, that doesn't sound too bad...but uh...we can wait on that a while, can't we?" "As long as you need, my little flower...there's no rush. No rush at all.''

Neville smiled. "Right...I have two more questions and that's it, I swear." "You can ask me anything, any time." "How did you make those letters appear on my bed? Slytherins don't know the password to get in...and...all our beds are similar, how did you know which one was mine?" "I have my ways. I'll be happy to share them with you one day soon.''

And just like with the prospect of 'locking themselves in a closet', Neville found himself not minding that either.

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed my first Neville-centered oneshot, or at least tolerated it! :) As for the flowers...I just looked it up online.<strong>

**Red rose: Passionate love**

**White gardenia: Secret love**

**Sweetpea: Blissfulness**

**Other flowers not noted: Red daisy (beauty unknown to possessor), White Canterbury bells (innocence), White camellia (adoration), Violet (Faithfulness)**


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